Tales of the Steel Talons
by Aires Drake
Summary: Set in the Exalted area. The Steel Talons are a massive organization that essentially hides in the far North of Creation, although there's something a bit odd about them... Rated for scenes of extreme violence eventually among other factors.
1. Introduction of Steel Talons

Tales of the Steel Talons: (0) Who They Are

Disclaimer: I don't own Exalted in any shape or form, but I like to think that my concept that I first introduce in this chapter is uniquely mine, although the name comes from the the GDI faction in Kane's Wrath.

For being some of the most sophisticated and well-equipped mercenaries in Creation, the Steel Talons are certifiably insane. These are their stories.

In theory, there is no reasonable explanation or slimmer of possibility that the concept of the Steel Talons that exists. The very idea of taking in only the most desperate and refining them into a massive and cohesive multi-national mercenary force is ridiculous. Even more insane is the idea of each member creating a family legacy of being a Steel Talon. Despite those two noticeable hurdles and many more less-noticeable pitfalls, the reality of the situation is that the mercenaries form surrogate, and actual, families with others. Each member has valuable skills and perceptions that they are trained to use and take pride in, regardless of the opinions of outsiders.

Some armies of Creation drill their raw recruits for two weeks before sending them out to the front-lines to either die or survive through some miracle. The average life expectancy of soldiers trained in this method is about three weeks on the front-lines. This estimate includes those veterans who manage to survive longer. This life average is even shorter now that Creation has entered its Time of Tumult. The Steel Talons enjoy being different from those armies in two principle manners.

The first area is the obvious difference of training. Each recruit of the (in)famous mercenaries can usually expect six months of basic training and then a minimum of nine additional months of specialization training before being shipped to one of the well-hidden fortresses in the North's Wyld Bordermarches. Generally, a recruit will spend one to two years there, learning the true purpose of the mercenaries and how to combat all of the myriad forces that threaten Creation. If they survive their first years of service, which is likely since the mercenary officers have a vested interest in making sure they thrive and learn, the recruits are given various surgeries and treatments that augment their bodies, minds, and souls.

Finally, after an additional 3 months mixed with recovery and leave time and assessment tests, a recruit will have the opportunity to request placement with one of the four brigades that make up the Steel Talons, although most inhabitants are not aware of this fact. Each brigade specializes in a different aspect of warfare and modifies their equipment selection somewhat to suit their purpose and mission.

The Airborne Brigade is the force least seen outside of the Steel Talons' territories, but it possesses the highest mobility out of the brigades. Its members receive additional training in coordination, rapid-strike operations, and aerial vehicle skills. The Airborne are commanded by Colonel Iron Raptor, an Air Aspect Dragon-Blooded, who traces her lineage back to a Dynast who had angered both his House's head and the Scarlet Empress herself for being too outspoken about his ideals and had fled to the icewalker tribes before being recruited by almost-mythical founder of the Steel Talons himself.

The Support Brigade is the most familiar force to any former recruit, since it is responsible for both the management of Steel Talon bases and the various tasks that keep the entire force running, such as the training of recruits. Its members specialize in defensive combat, training and management operations, and construction skills. There is a continual debate about whether the commanding officer for the Support Brigade actually exists or if that position is actually overseen by the Steel Talons' overall commander and founder.

The Reconnaissance Brigade is the least seen force of the Steel Talons…anywhere. This brigade serves as the covert striking arm of the mercenaries and also manages its independent information-gathering operations. Former recruits who join the Recon can expect to receive additional training in undercover missions, covert operations, methods for dealing with hostile forces from within Creation, and guerilla warfare tactics. It is commanded by Colonel Anastasia Stalin, a Chosen of Luna, and a mistress of hidden death who was rescued from a raging chimera by mercenaries' founder almost two hundred fifty years before the disappearance of the Scarlet Empress. Despite being a member of the Silver Pact, she considers her loyalty to be first to her savior and original mentor.

The only one of the four brigades that is well-known outside of the North, the Light Brigade possesses the greatest amount of firepower and skill in using that power as a scalpel of its commander. When outsiders think of the Steel Talons, they're usually only thinking about the Light Brigade, not realizing how much that impression is desired by the overall organization to conceal its true might and abilities. The Light Brigade is also the force most-used to hiring out members to fulfill contracts. Unfortunately, it also possesses the highest casualty rate out of the brigades due its high-visibility posting at Lookshy and its high mission/job rate. New members of the brigade will receive training in mechanized warfare, social training due to the high-visibility profile, training in combating demonic and undead forces, and independent operations. Colonel Tiberius Rommel is both the brigade's commanding officer and the overall second-in-command of the entire organization who was recruited in his teenage years with his two sisters from a Whitewall execution by the founder of the Steel Talons. It is said that he was chosen by the Unconquered Sun for tenacity and his desire to create a better world for his two sisters.

Going back to the principle differences of Steel Talons and the majority of Creation's other armies, the first topic have adequately mentioned for the moment: each recruit's training and preparation for combat. The last manner of difference is how the Steel Talons are successful when others would fail, which is related to its organizational lay-out, equipment, and how the mercenaries handle opponents of all types.

The success of the Steel Talons, in many ways, is what sets apart from almost any other force. Not only are they capable of waging war against a wide range of opponents on almost any battlefield, but the Steel Talons Mercenaries are also capable of fighting over half of those hostile armies on several different battlefields _at the same time_. A great part of this capacity for warfare is based off its organization, with each of the brigades fielding a force equal in number to one of the Scarlet Realm's legions but capable of taking on, in some fashion or another, a far larger force and tearing it apart either viciously or surgically.

With each brigade comprising of five thousand veteran soldiers, this number is multiplied by how effective each of these brigades fight hostile legions even when divided and surrounded on all sides. The basis for this effectiveness is a result of the intense two to three years of training where recruits are gathered into sub-units that are organized far differently than those of other armies. Instead of the Legion-based organization favored by the Realm and its satrapies or the Field Forces of Lookshy, the Steel Talons use a unique organization format pioneered by its founder before the fall of the First Age. Each brigade is broken up equally into five "battalions" that each possesses a certain specialty of a combat aspect.

These one thousand-man battalions are broken down further into a mix of five "companies" that are consist of about two hundred soldiers geared toward one specialty in the battalion aspect or a supporting aspect. In this manner, a lone battalion can support itself and demolish a legion of the Scarlet Realm without even taking extensive casualties. Furthermore, each company is broken down into four "platoons" of fifty mercenaries who specialize in a certain portion of the company's or battalion's combat aspect. The final level is the five "squads" of ten soldiers each that make up a platoon.

The combat aspects of a Steel Talon battalion are reflected by its specialist companies and its equipment. There are five different aspects of combat that a battalion can be modeled to handle: Armor, Artillery, Airborne, Mechanized, and Reconnaissance. An Armor-combat battalion is one of the mightiest forces in the inventory of the Steel Talons that is also capable of traversing a wide range of terrain in faster than the many of Creation's military planners believe possible. To this end, they are equipped with a mix of heavily armed and armored land vehicles and highly mobile and well-armed scout vehicles for both air and land. With a vanguard formed of _Dauntless_ MBVs supported by _Drebin _IFVs and _War Hawk_ SCAs, an Armor Battalion can demolish any force anywhere, except on the sea. Attempting to hide when they pass will only result in discovery by patrols of _Blitz_ DPVs or _Gemini_ Scout Airships that will then call in the assault elements of the battalion to shatter those hiding places.

An Artillery-combat battalion delivers _Death_ from afar. While most armies generally deploy low magnitude and power artillery batteries on a battlefield unless from a defended or prepared location, the Steel Talon have a highly effective, highly concentrated, and highly mobile artillery section for each brigade. The founder of the Steel Talons once remarked, "Comrades, my artillery is my personal Boomstick to destroy both the morale and numbers of the hated enemy long before they can harm us." While they still take some time to deploy for combat, a few minutes of setting up before firing the first destructive salvos over the horizon or obstructing terrain to land upon unsuspecting targets is a vast improvement upon the hour it takes opposing artillery units to lay down fire upon the rapidly-advancing Steel Talon formation. Equipped with both _Juggernaut_ and _Behemoth_ MASs and firing data relayed from _Panzer_ CCVs, an Artillery Battalion will fulfill the mission laid out by the statement of the Steel Talons' founder.

An Airborne-combat battalion is exactly what its title suggests. Although it possesses two companies of armored troops, its workhorse force lies in three Airborne Companies, each using a modification of aerial _Battle Carriers_, the_ Gemini_ and _War Hawk_ airships and various other airships, along with one _Kireeki_-class assault skyrieme and two _Roughneck_-class aerial frigates for the battalion.

A Mechanized-combat battalion is the only force that has actually be seen by foreign observers without those observers being executed or shipped off to a forsaken island without contact to the rest of Creation. Using a mix of power armor-equipped infantry, _Drebin_ IFVs, _Blitz_ DPVs, and_ Panzer_ CCVs that are then supported by a platoon of _Dauntless_ MBVs, a Mechanized battalion is able to quickly and decisively react to a rapidly-shifting situation and then dominate hostile infantry and warstrider units. Mechanized battalions consist of three Mech companies supported by two Combat Engineer companies, which allow them to the sole force to take and hold territory against all but the _most_ determined foes.

A Reconnaissance-combat battalion is a bit of misnomer. Unlike the other battalion combat aspects, the lone Recon Battalion rarely fights with its full force gathered in one region. Its ability to do harm to an enemy force or nation is actually a result of the battalion dispersing to destroy infrastructure, take out commanders, tear down hostile morale, and pick off enemy patrols one at a time, rather than on massive scale in the midst of chaotic battlefield. Existing only as a part of the Recon Brigade, the battalion takes on the special and covert operations of the brigade, handing off the more obvious and destructive missions to the Armor, Artillery, and Mechanized battalions of the Recon brigade.

Another factor in their capacity is the sheer cruelty of both the soldiers and officers. While this is not always apparent off the battlefield, this is exhibited in several different manners on the battlefield. Chief of among these manners are the tactics used. The only true taboo that mercenaries observe is the threatening or involvement of civilians and innocents. Otherwise, any tactic or stratagem that keeps those two groups out of the issue at hand is allowed and even _encouraged_ by commanding officers.

Best known of the Steel Talon policies is the refusal to take prisoners. This can be interpreted in three manners by commanding officers. Surrendering forces are usually told to give up their more-advanced equipment and to disperse to their homes. However, when additional threats lurk nearby or if hostile forces have returned to their homes only to pick up new weapons and return to war, then the systematic extermination of hostile forces, even if they are wounded or unable to fight back at the time. This response has two results: usually the undying hate of the mercenaries by the families and nations of those who were exterminated by the mercenaries and an investigation and review of the commanding officers' decision by the mercenaries' upper-level officers to determine the validity of the actions in response to different circumstances of the event and its causes. The final occurrence is undoubtedly the rarest of the three to take place. It is so rare because it results in the recruitment of the hostile forces that surrender because of how impressed the Steel Talons were by the campaign or battle against them. This rarity is increased because the Steel Talons will not recruit undead, although it will recruit Abyssal officers or soldiers of that unit, the fae, demons, or any force from outside of Creation.

AN: Not entirely done or updated because of recent work I've done and the introduction of the North book for Exalted. Expect it to be updated eventually though.


	2. Ch I A Meeting That Changed Fate

ales of the Steel Talons: (1) A Meeting That Changed Fate

Disclaimer: I don't own Exalted in any shape or form, but I like to think that my concept is uniquely mine, although the name comes from the the GDI faction in Kane's Wrath.

For being some of the most sophisticated and well-equipped mercenaries in Creation, the Steel Talons are certifiably insane. These are their stories.

The city of Whitewall is known for many things and individuals. It was once a fully-functioning, living prayer site to the Unconquered Sun. In the four-hundred thirty-eighth year of the Scarlet Empress's reign, one of its inhabitants found a purpose to exist beyond family and began a journey to greatness that would make him into someone unforgettable to those who met him.

Normally, the sentence for going against the edicts of the Syndics is death by exposure to elements outside of the city walls. The elements of this sentence range from the traditional, such as frostbite or dehydration, to the terrifying, such as the fae devouring your soul and then allowing the Guild to use your soulless husk as cheap labor, to the painful, as being torn apart limb by limb and being eaten alive by the living dead. Each year, the convicted are staked outside the city walls where their screaming ends can be heard as reminders to inhabitants of the price for going against the Syndics' rule.

This year was not any different, a two dozen "sacrifices," a mix of failed reformers, imprisoned thieves, and foolish youths, were gathered up in preparation. Three of these sacrifices were set in the same dark, forbidding cell for their last night before their demise: the doomed and orphaned Rommel siblings. Their eyes were gaunt and hollow from two years of living on the streets of Whitewall and on the run from inquiring militiamen and mercenaries. It had begun when their parents, reformers who wished to change the status quo of Whitewall, went missing near the time of yearly sacrifices. The largest body parts found were the right hands and wedding bands of the pair. At that time, their five children had no relatives or willing friends to turn for help or home. The two youngest froze to death that year despite the best efforts of the eldest, Tiberius, to keep them alive.

Tiberius Rommel had once been an apprentice to one of Whitewall's premier artisans and craftsmen, learning the trade as it had been passed down since the end of the First Age and the birth of the Second Age. This apprenticeship was immediately severed once the remains of his parents were found, leaving the fifteen year-old boy to be both the rock and the provider for his four younger siblings. His failure to keep his brother and youngest sister alive would torment and haunt him, but it also made him more cautious and wary of others. In the adversity of freezing cold or biting hunger, his mind became a precise machine plotting and tracking the best possibilities for survival and revenge.

Tiberius knew the Syndics were the cause of his parents' deaths, because each year's set of sacrifices had to be approved by the seven cruel spirits of winter. All he lacked was the proof and reasoning. Both of which would be potentially fatal to uncover. Ultimately, he had confirmed his suspicions by the next winter's end after slipping into the home of a Syndic supporter and official. Unfortunately, while he had been rummaging through files written in the script of the First Age, an inquisitive servant had stumbled upon the teen clothed in worn and dirty gray clothing and had raised the alarm. The maid was Tiberius's first kill with the gloves he had once he used during his apprenticeship.

Too high-strung with an adrenaline rush, Tiberius had no time to mourn the loss of his true innocence after watching the light fade from the maid's eyes and removing his gloved hands from her now-cooling throat. He knew he had to escape and so quickly retraced his steps and fled from the home with militiamen tracking him. After three hours of a desperate chase through the streets, buildings, and snow of Whitewall, the teen felt confident enough in the knowledge that he had lost his pursuers to return to the alleyway where his sisters and their makeshift "home." He had been wrong.

The next morning, two patrols of militiamen came to take them into custody under charges of murder and conspiracy to assassinate the Syndics. The trial had been swift and left no opportunities to argue for his case or even that his sisters were uninvolved in the whole mess. All of these events led to their current predicament in the cell. Despite not being able to see it in the windowless cell, the sunset was approaching. With the end of the day, the end of their lives and the sacrifices' executions also neared.

Tiberius and his sisters blinked their eyes from the glare of the dying light as they and the other sacrifices were led down the main streets with a heavy escort of elite soldiers and militiamen to the main gate where their end awaited. The eyes of trio scanned the faces of the crowds lining the edges of the roads, but any face which they might have recognized was turned away as former friends refused to meet the eyes of the doomed. Once the procession had reached the sacrificial grounds outside of the walls that were the city's namesake, a scribe of the courts read aloud each sacrifice's name and list of crimes for all to know. Then, five militiamen forced each sacrifice to lie out on the ground with their limbs spread out to be chained to either steel or iron pegs deeply imbedded into the frozen earth and snow.. Tiberius complied with the soldiers when it came to his turn; he would die with dignity and as an example to his two sisters who were next. His only regret was how his sisters had been dragged into this mess with him just as they were beginning to bloom into their teenage years.

As night fell, the soldiers, crowds, and officials left since they had no desire to witness the horrific endings of twenty-four lives. With nightfall, the horrors approached the sacrifices. Timidly at first, the walking dead shambled forward, uttering their characteristics moans and gazing at their meals with bloodshot and soulless eyes. Tiberius and his sisters were unfortunate enough to be the furthest away from the undead, and as a result, they were able to get a horrific front-row seat to what their fate would even as they noticed fae descending upon the dying to consume the minds of those already dying on the inside from their bodily pains. Tiberius's last wishes as the bloodstained claws and gaping jaws of the horrific undead turned to him and his sisters were that his sisters could survive. Then the pain began.

He screamed, all traces of dignity lost as his body and mind were fed upon by the undead and fae respectively, for his tormentors and executioners to stay from his sisters. For a moment, the pain ceased to intensify as his delusional mind imagined the sun that still kissed the horizon could protect him and sister. In that moment, the fae and undead drew back from the trio and as the sisters cringed from their brother. For upon his brow, there sat a burning, half-filled golden circle, the mark of an Anathema.

In that moment of lucidity, he realized that the chains around his right wrist no longer kept that arm bound and that blood streamed from his right arm, right eye, parts of his torso, and parts of his legs. In that moment, he realized why the chains no longer kept him bound: his hand had been first bitten off and then partially devoured. He could even see lying on the ground a few feet from himself once he turned his head to the right which triggered another realization. In that moment, he realized that the undead had literally ripped his right eye from its socket and devoured it. In that moment, he could suddenly see the weak points of the chains that bound him to the snow soaked with his and the other sacrifices' blood. He stabbed each of those points with the exposed bone of his right forearm, ignoring the pain spiking out from that limb in protest of his cruel actions, to shatter those weak links of the chains. In that moment, his mind almost burned with the information that streaked through his mind. In that moment, he stood up and faced the setting sun as it spoke to him, "You are my chosen tool for a legacy that endured from the last Age. Go forth, create the weapons to retake Creation from its enemies, and shatter them for all time."

He did what any one else would have done as the burning image and form of a legendary dragon erupted from his body and surrounded it protectively as it roared in defiance to his surrounding foes: he nodded numbly. He stumbled to his sisters even though they cringed from the blood-soaked and terrifying state of his body. His lone eye gazed kindly at them as he shattered the weak links of their bindings and gathered them into painful and soul-healing embrace. "Remember this: I am your brother, and I will _always_ protect you. That is my oath, and my oaths alone shall bind me from now on."

The tearful twins now returned his embrace even though they knew that even a newborn demon could not stop both the undead and fae that surrounded them unarmed as he was. At least, he was until ripped a seven-foot long iron stake from the frozen earth and rested its blunt end upon the worn rags and leather strips that once had resembled shoes or boots. The drawing of his improvised weapon became a signal to the surrounding monstrosities, and they drew close once more, desiring dreams, flesh, and life. Tiberius shoved the twin sisters behind his back and leveled his improvised iron spear at the mindless and mind-seeking beasts, his ragged jacket flapping in a sudden burst of arctic winds from the North.

A brave fae, believing this foolish mortal to be too wounded and young to harm it, leapt at the teenaged Solar Exalt who deftly knocked it aside for a moment before he plunged the frozen iron tip into the cruel beast already rolling onto to its feet to strike at him again. In that brief exchange, a pair of watching eyes gleamed as they assessed the potential of the youth as the chaotic mixture of unrealized potential and devoured dreams bled out of the lethal wound in its forehead until the fae broke apart and dispersed into nothingness. Blood dripped partially down the makeshift spear before it froze as the hand clutching the iron started to freeze to the metal despite rags and gloves around the hand and blood ceased to flow from his wounds. A thin trail of blood had actually _frozen_ on his right cheek from both his eye socket wound and unnoticed gash in that cheek as well. Now, a quartet of undead approached claws glistening with frozen blood as their empty eyes somehow filled with malice in recognizing an ancient foe, causing the young Exalt to backpedal a bit with his sisters in shock of emotions from _the walking dead_.

His retreat saved him from the swiping claws of the first two creatures but they failed to protect him from the ravenous maw of the third that ripped off a small chunk of flesh from his already shredded arm and the hateful claws of the fourth tore a rent in his chest but failed to pierce his ribcage. He was able to crush the dripping head of the third undead with butt of his "spear" while his spear tip sheered the second in half. Ironically, Tiberius improvised another weapon, the bone sticking out like a spear point from the bloody mess of his right arm, by first smashing one's chest as he ran at it and then used it as a springboard to attack the final one that was momentarily distracted by eating his flesh it had just torn from his arm. This final one was dispatched by thrusting bone shattering its skull and spilling its contents followed by its collapsing body and its final killer who slipped somewhat on the blood frozen atop of the snow.

He looked up now to survey the remaining threats to his sisters. By this point, his preservation instinct had essentially been disabled in the desperation and duty of Tiberius to protect his sisters in his final moments. Five fae monsters and almost two score of the undead still remained nearby, although more could be seen. A scream of terror caused him to whirl about and witness a fae about to rip open the throat of one of his sisters. Unfortunately for the fae, the blood of dragon that slept in her veins awakened in that moment and enabled her to literally breathe a lightning bolt to incinerate the threatening monster in a moment. The macabre grin that soon split on the brother's face was one full of pride that quickly passed when he heard growls from behind himself, causing him to whirl about once and deftly leap back from cruel claws that nearly opened up his stomach.

He could see no more miracles coming as he felt the golden strength that had filled his limbs begin to fade away. He quickly backpedaled to rejoin his sisters for his coming end. The odds were too stacked against them; they should never have thought that could have come out of this certain execution method alive. He dropped both his weapon and his body from exhaustion and fatigue from his wounds. He felt two warmer presences around, lifting him and making him open his remaining eye to see the teary yet cheerful faces of his faces. Their faces told him all he ever needed to know in his last moments as his vision faded out again although he remained awake to hear the groans of undead and tormenting laughs of the fae.

Then a sound leapt to his ears that he had not heard since before the end of his apprenticeship: the sounds of roaring flames and earth-shaking explosions. He felt something bounce off of his chest and hear plop down onto the snow. He found the strength and will to open his eye and saw a magnificent sight: the rotting limb of an undead arm. He looked up as his sisters lifted him up higher to see the fae and undead around them and approaching the sacrifice grounds blow up and burn from bolts of Essence and scorching flames that even melted the snow which then refroze as ice which sometime caused some of the fae and undead to fall into the water and then be trapped in the instantly-freezing ice and become trapped targets. His sisters pulled him forward towards the source of their sudden deliverance, only to stop as an odd-dressed grey-haired man lowered a strange tube of death and walked towards them. His silver jacket with golden metal shoulderpads waved in the air around him and he walked forward with the epitome of human grace and lethality. His boisterous voice breathed new warmth and life into their bodies, "Ah, comrades! It good to see youth of today still possess the great stubbornness that make Motherland great! I would like to know your names, if I could. My own, you may call me…the Engineer of the North Wind, Borealis."

The trio exchanged looks with each other, noting for the first time the burning mark upon the brow on the elder sister now as well. As one, with the eldest drawing on the strength on his siblings, replied to this crazy man with mad grins identical to each other, "Sure. The name is Rommel. Remember it."

Fin.

AN: This was insane….I hardly can wrap my head around how I managed to type this in two days while also typing another drabble that's over two thousand words with most of those words during a car ride from North Carolina to Tallahassee, Florida. I hope people enjoy this. It is a bit gory, but it's the way it flowed out of me.


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